Not to long ago, a slightly older friend fell and cracked a rib. I can still remember being a kid and taking my bike of sweet jumps on ramps made with boards we found behind the garage, 3 nails, and some tape. We'd wipe out 50 times and go home with a couple scrapes that mom would flush with the dreaded bactine while she asked if we thought jeans grew on trees. Day after day after day with nothing but scrapes and bruises. Now it'll probably mean a trip to the emergency room if I fall while walking to the fridge to get a beer. God forbid I fall down the steps. 50/50 chance I'd die before I finished rehab in the SNF.